


In Dreams

by JudeAraya



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dreams, Fluff, M/M, Post-Dan and Phil World Tour 2018: Interactive Introverts, Praise Kink, Smut, well a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27997674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudeAraya/pseuds/JudeAraya
Summary: "Phil, when I dream about you these days, I dream about you with a quiff.""Do you?""Yeah.""How often do you dream about me?"They're exhausted post-tour, and the work never seems to end, but neither do all the little ways in which they take care and surprise each other.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 32
Kudos: 95





	In Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the super talented and even more sweet [themwhiskers](https://themwhiskers.tumblr.com/rel=) || [Hiwa](https://hiwatari-art.tumblr.com/) who is just the bees knees. Both as a human and an artist. 
> 
> I might be guilty of having written this this morning because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t do these things last minute despite having AMPLE time to get it done so hopefully it still manages to tickle your fancy.

Dan woke to the smell of coffee, strong and tempting. He stretched and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then flung his hand to the left, seeking Phil’s sleep-warm skin, only to find an empty bed and cold sheets. 

“Ugh,” Dan covered his face and prepared to roll himself out of bed without good morning snuggles, because _okay_ he _liked_ good morning snuggles, so fucking what? Dan buried his face in Phil’s pillow, breathing Phil’s scent in and calming the defensive troll that lived in the corner of his brain. There was nothing wrong with wanting affection, and he knew it. Maybe just not as much when he was wrung out with exhaustion. Blessedly, because Dan was a lucky man, there was a hot mug of coffee on the bedside table. Still no Phil to be found but at least Dan knew Phil had been there. Dan was not always the most pleasant to wake up, especially at--he looked at his phone--eight fucking AM, _Jesus tits_ what--

 _Oh_. 

Today they had to go to the BBC to record the director's commentary of the film. He was so exhausted he’d somehow managed to forget. Dan hadn’t slept well in a year, not with everything so non-stop, and it was fucking with his ability to remember even his day-to-day schedule.

“Morning,” Phil said, coming in with his own mug of coffee. He sat next to Dan and ran his fingers through Dan’s hair. Dan rolled and pressed his face against Phil’s leg. Dan’s skin was tight and his insides buzzing with anxiety and a too-tight feeling he _hated_. Phil was here now, though, which alone calmed him. 

“Thank you,” he said, mouth pressed against Phil’s warm thigh. 

“What?” 

“Thank you,” Dan repeated, sitting up to prop himself against the headboard. A tentative sip of his coffee proved it hadn’t been there long. “You’re too good to me.” 

“No such thing.” Phil had dark circles under his eyes. Dan brushed a thumb over those shadows and kissed Phil’s cheek. 

“Thank you for waking me. I know you’re tired too. I didn’t even hear the alarm.” 

“You were out cold,” Phil said. He caught Dan’s hand and kissed the inside of his wrist. “But we really ought to leave, so you should hop in the shower if you need.” 

Dan slurped his coffee, hoping it would infuse his muscles with a different kind of buzzing, a fortifying, energetic, non-anxious one. It didn’t work. Phil joining him in the shower a few minutes after Dan, however, did. 

“Bub,” Dan said. “I don’t think I have the en--” 

“Shush now, and let me wash your hair,” Phil said. He turned Dan around with no-nonsense hands so he was facing away from the spray. Dan sighed deeply when Phil’s hands began to massage his scalp, then the base of his skull. 

“I’m so tired, Phil,” Dan said. His voice cracked. He shouldn’t complain. Phil was tired too. 

“You’re doing so well,” Phil said, pulling Dan into a gentle hug. He guided Dan under the water, rinsing his hair, wiping soap from Dan’s face before Dan blinked his eyes open. Phil cupped his cheeks. Despite the exhaustion on Phil’s face, his eyes were direct, lovely sea blue today. Dan bit his lip. “We’ve only got a bit more to go. I know you can do this, all right?” Dan nodded, tucking his face into Phil’s neck, letting the hot water wash down his skin, imagining his stress and anxiety slipping and slipping away and down the drain as well.

* * *

“Phil, I am _harrowed_ ,” Dan said a few days later, throwing his messenger bag on the floor by the door. 

“Right?” Phil leaned against the wall, eyes closed.

“C’mon.” Dan took Phil by the hand and led him to the sofa. “I’ll order some dinner. What d’you fancy?” 

“Dominoes?” Phil said, tilting his head back and looking up at Dan. 

“We’re saving that for when it’s all done, remember?” 

“Right.” Phil closed his eyes again. “Thai?” 

“Coming right up.” Dan grabbed his computer, putting in their usual order, keeping a careful eye on Phil, whose hands were fisted in his lap. Once the order was complete he plopped down next to Phil and ran a finger over one fist, which unfurled to tangle fingers with Dan’s. He squeezed gently.

“Headache?”

“No,” Phil said. “Just…” he gestured with his free hand, “a lot.” 

“Can I carry some?” Dan whispered. 

Phil’s eyes fluttered open, met his. “You already are.” 

Dan shifted so they were pressed up against each other, shoulders to feet. Phil rested his head against Dan’s shoulder. It warmed Dan to hear it, confirmation that he was helping Phil; he didn’t know _how_ exactly, what Phil was perceiving, but it was nice to know that they just… knew how to do it by instinct sometimes. 

Dan retrieved the food when it came without complaint, dishing it up and bringing it out to Phil, who was scrolling on his phone. 

“Thank you,” Phil said, making grabby hands. They were mostly quiet during dinner, doing their own things--Dan was watching cute compilations of dogs being reunited with their owners--but dinner and the quiet obviously rejuvenated Phil. He cleaned up, kissing the top of Dan’s head when Dan protested. Even though it was absurdly early, Phil wandered off to read in bed. He’d said he didn’t have a headache but one must be threatening for Phil to leave off screens in favor of an actual book. Dan sorted his emails out in the living room, then got them both glasses of water before crawling into bed with Phil. 

Phil closed his book, keeping his place with a finger. “Are you off to sleep?” 

“At nine?” Dan smirked. “Hardly. Just checking on you.” 

“You’re being awfully sweet to me today,” Phil said, head tilted. “What’s that about then?” 

“Can’t a guy just want to be sweet?” Dan countered. 

“I dunno, seems suspicious.” 

“Oh, shut up and let me take care of you,” Dan said. He poked Phil’s belly, enjoying both the squirming and laughter that resulted. Phil’s book was dropped unceremoniously as they both tried to out-tickle each other. Phil was wheezing with laughter once Dan had his hands trapped, sitting straddled on Phil, holding him down with his weight. 

“ _Uncle, uncle, I give in_!” Phil cried mid-laugh. “You always win, why do you always win?” 

“I want it more,” Dan said. 

Phil’s eyes focused on Dan, gaze sharper, more direct. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Phil slipped his hands from Dan’s, coming round his hips to pull him closer. “You said you want to take care of me?” 

Dan smirked. “Always.” 

“C’mere and give us a kiss then,” Phil whispered. Dan swayed into him, kissing him softly, with teasing nips and gentle touches. Phil’s fingers tightened painfully around Dan’s hips. “No,” Phil whined when Dan pulled away. 

Dan pushed Phil’s drooping quiff from his forehead and kissed it. “Are you really not too tired?” Meant seriously, Dan searched Phil’s face, reading the lines at the corners of his eyes, the specific tilt of his lips. 

“You dream of me with a quiff now, then?” Phil asked, turning the conversation completely. Dan rolled with it, used to Phil’s tangents, knowing how busy his mind always was. Part of Phil’s brilliance came from that constant chatter, his busy, beautiful brain. 

“Yeah,” Dan said, shy of his confession for some reason. 

“You dream of me often?” 

“Well, of course.” Dan shrugged, Phil’s hair was tacky with the product he used to keep his quiff in order. Dan pinched Phil’s earlobe. Phil didn’t dream like Dan did. His dreams were surreal, fantastical, ridiculously odd. He didn’t often speak of them, unless they were particularly funny or interesting. Dreams were personal to Phil, only to be shared occasionally. Dan wrote his dreams of Phil quietly, pressing them into the pages of his dream journal. Phil would be morning rough, hair a mess and eyes swollen, sleepy fingers greedy, and Dan would jot down every detail he could remember. 

Phil’s fingers slipped under Dan’s jumper, pulling it off slowly. Dan lifted his arms to help. Static crackled through his hair and along his arms. He cupped Phil’s face with both hands, kisses far from teasing now, hoping to deflect from the admission. Phil took what Dan gave, met it with his own fervor. 

“You’re lovely,” Phil whispered against Dan’s neck. Dan shivered, hard. “You’ve been doing so well.” 

“I’m meant to be caring for you,” Dan said, failing to hide how he reacted to the praise, how it made him want to preen and melt at the same time. 

“Trust me, you are,” Phil said. He scraped a nail over Dan's nipple, giggling at the helpless sounds it elicited. 

“You’re much too dressed,” Dan said by way of response, which worked rather well, seeing as it got them both naked. It also allowed Dan to compose himself a bit. He rolled over to get the lube and a condom from the drawer, yelping when Phil nipped at his asscheek. 

“None of that,” Dan said, dropping his supplies next to Phil. “ _You_.” 

“Yeah?” Phil hefted Dan back onto his lap. What muscle he’d retained from the training prior to the tour rippled. Dan ran an appreciative hand over Phil’s bicep. He was painfully hard, the mix of praise, the nip of pain, the deliciousness of being manhandled, being put exactly where Phil wanted him went shivering up through him. 

“Please use me,” Dan whispered. He spread his legs, feeling his hips flex, so they were as close as could be. Phil cupped his ass, fingers already slipping between his cheeks. Dan kissed him, cradling his head with trembling arms, hands tangled in Phil’s hair. Phil wasn’t even fucking him and Dan was falling apart.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Phil said. His lips were kiss swollen and his voice graveled. He reached for the lube, opening it with one hand. Dan took it from him to spare their sheets, putting an _appropriate_ amount on Phil’s fingers. He went back to kissing Phil, moving down to his throat, biting an earlobe, gasping desperately when Phil’s fingers found his rim. “Breathe,” Phil said, and so Dan did, exhaling and relaxing, bearing down as Phil slipped two fingers in at once. 

“ _Phil,_ ” Dan whimpered, concentrating on the burn and the stretch. Maybe it shouldn’t feel so good, Phil rushing a little, Dan having to work to take what Phil gave him. But Dan’s brain was hardwired to respond to Phil with pleasure, always, and the slight pain went all the way through him, making his cock throb. 

“God, look at you,” Phil whispered, fingers moving, pressing gently around Dan’s rim, softening him up. “You’re so hungry for it.” 

Dan really didn’t have it in him to disagree, so he did what his body demanded, which was to rock down onto Phil’s fingers, his own curled around Phil’s shoulders. Eyes closed, he nosed at Phil’s neck and then cheek, seeking a kiss to pair with the pleasure. 

It didn’t take long after that for Phi’s cock to be fully buried inside Dan, hands at Dan’s hips keeping his movements slow; agonizingly slow. 

“Phil,” Dan gasped, sweat beginning to gather at his hairline, “Please let me go faster.” 

“I don’t want it to end,” Phil said, rough and low and honest. 

Dan cupped the back of his head and looked into his eyes. “It won’t,” he said. “I promised, didn’t I? _We_ promised.”

Phil’s eyes brightened, a smile in the shape of them, blown out and dark blue. HIs lips were delicious pink and squirked sweetly. The contrast, that bright, happy look paired with the demanding push and pull of his hands, making Dan ride him harder and faster were so utterly _Phil_ , so completely a man of contrasts and contradictions and brilliant odd ideas and focused plans. 

That vivid passion and focus and happiness were all for Dan, all Phil taking in Dan’s hitched breath and little cries of pleasure, adjusting their hips a until he was right where Dan needed him to be. 

“D’you ever dream of this?” Phil asked, nails digging into Dan’s skin. 

“Or cours,” Dan said. He was so, so close. He thought maybe he could even come without being touched if Phil managed to keep this up. “ _Phil_ \--” 

“--I dream of it too,” Phil said, then grunted and fucked up into Dan mercilessly. “I dream of you all the time.” 

Dan gasped, his whole body clenching as his orgam hit him suddenly; crashing through him, its heat spreading through his whole body, all the way to his fingers and toes. Phil didn’t let up, fucked him through it until Dan thought he might cry from the pleasure-pain. Phil came not long after, dead silent but shuddering in Dan’s arms, lips slack under Dan’s kiss. 

Soon enough everything was that beautiful hazy after, where their kisses were tired and soft, where they spoke without words. Only later, cleaned up and sore and calm all through his bones and muscles and mind, did Dan curl up around Phil, spooning him. Phil’s fingers threaded through Dan’s and held his arm close around his chest, yawning hugely. 

”You really dream of me?” Dan whispered into the soft skin along the back of Phil’s neck. 

“Yeah,” Phil said, matter of factly. “My dreams are odd, but of course you’re there. You’re always there.” 

Dan nodded, knowing Phil meant more than he was saying. They were always there, together, lives wound so tightly together that even when at odds, they knew what the other needed. And so often did they need more than any outside might guess, what with their lives as they were. They made it okay together, what with the promises they’d made, with the knowledge that no matter what they did, moments like this were just theirs and would never be anyone else's. 

“I still sometimes dream of you like you were,” Dan confessed. “Like I was.” 

“Good dreams?” 

“Mostly.” 

“And the bad ones?” Phil shifted to roll over but Dan held him as he wast. 

“They don’t matter,” Dan said, “since you’re here when I wake up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Also thanks to Juli, WHOLE, WHO LE ( [Interficcia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interficcia/pseuds/Interficcia) here on Ao3) and any other name that applies. I fucking love your chaotic ass and I really appreciate you being such a great beta today. And for covert ops in an attempt to help me figure out what Hiwa might like :D
> 
> If you enjoyed, comments feed my inner creative beast. As do [reblogs](https://judearaya.tumblr.com/post/637153156095213568/fic-in-dreams) on tumblr! And of course, go give Hiwa some well deserved birthday love!


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